


Holly Jolly Omens

by ranguvar82



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attacks, ineffable holiday 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 14,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: A collection of one shots, drabbles, and ficlets for the Ineffable Holidays 2020 prompts from my GO groups on Facebook. I can promise much fluff and some silliness. Chapter Titles are prompts.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 223
Kudos: 121
Collections: Ineffable Holiday 2020





	1. Ice Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wants to go ice skating. The fact that he's never done it before shouldn't matter, right?

Holly Jolly Omens

Chapter One: Ice Skating

“I’m sorry, you want to do wot?” Crowley asked, mouth agape as he gazed at his husband. Aziraphale did that wiggle that he knew Crowley couldn’t resist, Bless him.

“I want to go ice skating! Our pond is more than frozen over enough, after all.”

Crowley couldn’t deny that. After a blizzard that lasted for three whole days, covered everything in white and left him a very cold and unhappy snake demon who might have slept practically on top of the heater that was his angel, he was pretty certain the bloody ocean was frozen, let alone the pond he had miracled into their garden. “Have you ever ice skated before?”

Aziraphale’s face fell. “Well...not as such, no. But how hard could it be? Look, I’ve even got the skates!” He held up his hand, revealing skates that had most certainly not been there before. One pair was white, the other black. “The black ones are yours.”

Crowley sighed. “Angel, I’m uncoordinated enough as it is on land. Don’t think I’d be any better on those things.” Aziraphale’s lip wobbled and he held out the skates. “Fine! Let’s go ice skating.” He pretended not to notice his husband pumping the air and cheering to himself.

They crunched through the snow, Crowley noting which of his plants needed a bit of care afterwards. When they got to the pond, Aziraphale moved the bench that Crowley had installed a bit closer to the frozen edge. “Right.” He slid out of his shoes, wriggling his toes in their tartan socks. Crowley tried not to melt at how adorable it was. Aziraphale slid on one skate and tied it tight. “I think, in interest of fairness, we should do this the human way. No miracling ourselves to balance.” Crowley made a noise of protest, but it died on his lips at his husband’s pleading eyes. Bless him, but he knew exactly how to make Crowley do whatever he wanted.

“Fine, whatever.” He took off his shoes(real ones, his snake shoes did not retain heat and he **hated** having cold feet) revealing a pair of thick red and black socks. Aziraphale looked at them, then hugged Crowley so tight he was sure he felt some ribs crack. 

“You’re wearing the socks I made you!” 

Crowley’s face was as red as his hair. “Ngk...um...yeah...” Aziraphale gave him one more squeeze before letting him go. Crowley mumbled something that sounded like “They’re comfy...” before slipping on his ice skates. “Well, here goes.” 

Aziraphale got to his feet, wobbled, and fell face forward onto the snow. “Oh, dear me.” He levered himself up using the bench. “I think I’ve got..” Backwards this time. “Oh, botheration!”

Crowley was faring no better, having slipped and fallen six times already. “Angel, can’t we just use a miracle?”

“No!” Splat into the snow again. “We...” A near miss of the bench. “Are.” A tentative balance gained, and the angel took a step forward. This time he fell right on top of Crowley. “So sorry, dear.” Crowley couldn’t really say he minded all that much. “Why don’t we balance each other?”

“Thought that’s what we did all the time.” Crowley said cheekily. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. Look, put your arm under mine, no not that one, the other one, dear. Someone, you’re a bloody snake and you can’t bend just a bit? Right. Now, on the count of three, we’ll use the bench as leverage to lift ourselves up. Ready? One. Two. Three!”

Legs and arms slipped and slid, but eventually they managed to get to their feet, their legs wobbling. “What next, Angel?”

“Err..um...we’ll have to synchronize our steps. So. Take it slow. Try not to saunter.”

Somehow they made it onto the ice without falling. Crowley looked over at Aziraphale. “Now wot?” Aziraphale blinked. “Bloody Someone Angel, don’t tell me you literally have no idea how to ice skate.”

“I know it involves moving the hips and legs.” Aziraphale said. Crowley buried his face in his hands, torn between exasperation and affection. “Well, it’s not like I had any reason to learn! You don’t know ei...ohhh...” Aziraphale’s feet went out from under him and he landed with a cry on the ice. “Bugger, that’s cold!”

“Ice usually is.” Crowley snarked, swaying his hips a bit to keep his balance. Aziraphale watched, transfixed. “Would you like a hand?”

“If you’re not too busy.” Aziraphale snapped. Crowley blinked, then smirked and began skating away. “Crowley, where are you going? Get back here and help me up, you foul fiend! This is dreadfully unfair!”

Crowley skated over. “Sorry Angel, you said you wanted to do this the human way. That means getting up on your own when you fall.” He skated around his husband, and Aziraphale sputtered. 

“How..how are you skating so well? You were falling on your arse on land!”

Crowley executed a perfect figure eight. “That was on land. You gonna sit there all day?” 

Aziraphale growled and somehow managed to get his feet under him. He got to his knees, then used the thickness of the ice to lever himself up. “Whoa...whoa...” His legs wobbled, and he windmilled his arms. 

Crowley skated over and took his hands. “Look at me, Angel, yeah? Just keep looking at me.” He skated backwards, and Aziraphale automatically moved forward. “Steady now.  We’re gonna go slow, yeah?” Aziraphale nodded. Crowley moved backwards another inch. “You gotta move your legs, Angel.”

“Don’t wanna fall.” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley smiled and cupped his chin, tilting his head up. 

“I got you. I always got you, my love. Come on.” 

Crowley led him around the pond, gently coaching him until Aziraphale felt comfortable enough to try skating on his own. 

Aziraphale stumbled over to the bench. Crowley skated over and sat next to him. “So, was this a good idea?” The angel asked. 

Crowley grinned at him. “All your ideas are good.”

Aziraphale wiggled happily. 


	2. Hot Cocoa/Cider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has made some cider for his angel. But Aziraphale only likes cocoa. Or does he?

Chapter Two: Hot Cocoa/Cider

Crowley was proud of his garden. He was proud of the roses, the irises, the marigolds, and all the other flowers. He was proud of the bushes, the shrubs, and the ferns. He was proud of the oak trees, the ash trees, the elms and birches.

But what he was the most proud of were the apple trees. They were his pride and joy.

And yes, he understood the irony of the Serpent of Eden’s favorite fruit being an apple. Aziraphale teased him about it constantly. But Crowley couldn’t help it. They came in so many wonderful varieties these days, and thanks to a little demonic miracle, he was able to grow several of them.

Some he plucked straight from the tree and devoured them, letting the juice run down his chin. He would share them with Aziraphale, and the angel was just as enthusiastic. Others he picked for Aziraphale to use in cooking. Apple pies, apple cobblers, baked apples, fried apples, apple brown betty, or just plain old apples with cheese. That Halloween, Aziraphale had made caramel and candied apples, passing them out to the delighted children that lived in the village nearby.

Now though, the weather was getting colder, which meant that Crowley was going to be able to use the apple press he had secretly gotten from Amazon to try something completely new. Apple cider. He had the apples he wanted in a barrel, hidden in a shed that he had miracled in the garden. He’d practiced with the press until he was fairly sure he had the mechanism down. Now all he had to do was make the cider, get it nice and hot, and present it to his angel.

And therein was the snag. For Aziraphale, cold weather meant cocoa, mulled wine, or sometimes brandy. The fact that the angel couldn’t actually **feel** the cold was a moot point. He had his routine, and his drinks. The cocoa was foremost, though. It had to be made on the stove, with cocoa powder and sugar. None of that instant stuff. Aziraphale liked marshmallows if they were the small ones, but for the most part preferred just a dash of cinnamon. Crowley had tried over the millenia to introduce Aziraphale to other cold weather drinks, but inevitably was politely declined. 

So he wasn’t holding out much hope for his cider. Even if it did taste delicious, if Crowley did say so himself. He  used a small miracle to warm Aziraphale’s angel mug up before sticking a cinnamon stick inside. 

Aziraphale was sitting on the sofa looking at a book on knitting. Crowley cleared his throat. “Oh. Hello, love. What’s that?”

Crowley blushed. “Erm, you know that big box that came a few weeks ago?”

“From that Amazon place? Yes, why?”

Crowley shuffled his feet. “Er...ngk...well...it was an apple press. I um...I made cider. Here.” He thrust the mug into Aziraphale’s hands and abruptly went snakey, hiding his head in his scales and thanking Someone that snakes couldn’t blush. 

Aziraphale smiled at his snakey husband and inhaled the scent of the cider. The sharp scent of Crowley’s apples, combined with the cinnamon, made his stomach growl. He took a sip. Then another. “Crowley, this absolutely delicious!” 

Crowley looked up and slithered over, coiling himself in Aziraphale’s lap. “Wasss afraid you wouldn’t like it.” He hissed. Aziraphale stroked him. 

“My darling, why ever not?”

“Becausse you drink cocoa when it’sss cold. Alwaysss have.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Darling, just because I like my cocoa doesn’t mean I don’t like anything else. And if it’s made by you, well, that’s even better.” Crowley lifted his head up. Aziraphale kissed him on the nose. 

“My love, the reason cocoa is my favorite is because you introduced me to it. And now I have a second favorite drink.”

Crowley ducked his head under his scales, hissing happily. 


	3. Candy Cane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley first had one in 1670...

Chapter Three: Candy Cane

Crowley first saw one in 1670. Aziraphale had been very excited to show him, and had undone his trousers, pulling it out with a flourish. It was a bit bigger than Crowley had expected. Aziraphale held it out and told Crowley to have a nice long lick. “I had one myself, earlier, and it tastes absolutely scrumptious!”

The demon was hesitant, but took hold of the long shaft and ran his tongue up it. “What flavor is that?”

“Peppermint! I do so love peppermint, don’t you?”

Crowley had to admit, it was really good. He took it into his mouth, and sucked, his eyes fixed on Aziraphale. The angel gasped, licking his lips. “I should get one for you.”

“That would be...very nice.” Aziraphale managed.

As the centuries went by, Crowley found himself looking more and more forward to the special treat. It only happened once a year, around Christmas time. Aziraphale would show up to wherever Crowley was, and they would each pull out the others’ gift, and spend as much time as they could licking and sucking each other. Crowley had tried biting his once, only to get such a stern talking to that he never dared try again.

The demon always tried to make his look nice, sometimes with a bow, other times by getting one with a different flavor and color. Aziraphale rather liked the cherry flavor. But Crowley loved the original peppermint. “You don’t mind, do you?” He had asked the demon one night as they sat in a pub, their mouths sticky.

“Course not. Don’t suppose I could have some more?”

Aziraphale smiled primly at him. “Later.” He adjusted himself, smiling at Crowley’s pout.

Now, in their South Downs cottage, Crowley was pacing the floor, waiting for Aziraphale. The front door opened, and the angel came in, a box in his hands. “Did they have them?!”

Aziraphale laughed and held out the box. “They did indeed.” Crowley hooted in happiness and snatched the box, already ripping off the plastic. “Honestly, you and your candy canes.”

Crowley smiled wickedly. “Hey Angel, wanna suck my...”

“CROWLEY.”


	4. Snow Globe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of snow globes hold precious memories.

Chapter Four: Snow Globe

“Oh, Crowley, look!” Aziraphale picked the snow globe off the table, shaking it. “It’s so pretty!” Inside, the snow fell on a small cathedral. “Oh, doesn’t that look like the church?!”

Crowley came over, peering at it over the rim of his sunglasses. “Yeah, I s’pose.”

Aziraphale pouted. “Well, you could show a bit more enthusiasm.”

Crowley sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Sorry. ‘M cold.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Darling, why didn’t you say so. Give me a moment to pay the nice lady, and then we’ll go home and have something hot to drink.”

Crowley nodded and wandered over to the table that held the snow globes. They were all shapes and sizes, with different objects within. Most held angels, and Crowley made a face at them. He already had an angel, and he didn’t need more.

But then one caught his eye. It was the largest one by far, and rather than the usual fare of angels, or animals, or even buildings, inside was an apple tree laden with fruit. Crowley picked it up and walked over to Aziraphale. “This one too.”

Aziraphale smiled and paid for both, leaving a blessing for the lady that her rummage sale would be a success and that she and her family would have the best Christmas. They trudged back to the Bentley, their snow globes wrapped in soft cloth to keep them from breaking(not that they would).

“So did you pick that one because you love apples so much?” Aziraphale asked as Crowley placed both globes on their mantel piece. Crowley came over and slid into his lap.

“Nah. Not ‘cause of that. You didn’t pick yours because you like churches, right?”

“Of course not, I picked it because that church was where I first realized I...Oh. Oh, my love.” Aziraphale kissed him. Crowley kissed back, sighing.

“Yeah.”

“My darling, will you ever forgive me for making you wait this long? For loving me as long as you did?”

“Always, my angel. Always.”


	5. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scroll through Amazon leads to a stroll down memory lane.

Chapter Five: Shopping

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley, who, as usual, was scrolling through his phone, eyes fixed on the screen. “What are you looking at?” The angel asked, craning his neck. Crowley yipped in surprise and covered his phone with his chest.

“No! No looking! Bad!” He gave Aziraphale a glare that reminded the angel of a mad puppy dog. It was highly adorable. Aziraphale tried his best to not smile. Crowley pouted at him. “Don’t wanna ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise? What surprise? What are you doing?”

Crowley mumbled something that sounded like “’’f’rpresnt...” Aziraphale blinked in confusion. “I’m tryin’ to shop for your present...and I’m not finding **anything!** ” The demon wailed that last part. “I wanna find something special, and you’ve got like, ten of everything!”

“On..on the phone? Oh, on you on that Nile thing?” Aziraphale asked, brightening. Crowley groaned. 

“Amazon, Angel. It’s called Amazon, and yeah. Not finding a bloody thing, though. Stupid Prime.”

Aziraphale scooted over on the sofa and kissed his cheek. Crowley went bright red. “Stoppit.”

“Shan’t.” The angel said happily. “You know, you could always drive down to the shops.” Crowley made a face.

“You know what those places are like this time of year? Well, I do, seeing as how I got a bloody commendation for crass commercialism.” Crowley had been rather proud of that one. “It’s a way to undermine the holiness that is so prevalent during Christmas time,” he had told Beelzebub. “Wouldn’t be caught dead in one of them. ‘Sides, if I bought somethin’ from there, you’d be pestering and nagging at me until I showed you what it was.”

“I would not!” Aziraphale said indignantly. Crowley snorted. 

“Yes you would, and if I tried hiding it you’d go all ‘All-Seeing’ and sneak a peek.”

“I’d never!” Aziraphale blurted out, blushing. Crowley merely gave him a look, and Aziraphale sighed. “Well, maybe I would. But you always buy me such lovely things that I can’t wait to have them.”

Crowley was absolutely not blushing. “S nothing.” He looked over at his husband. “D’you...remember the first thing I bought you? When we were at that bazaar?”

“Remember it? Darling, I still have it. The carved figurine of Apollo that you teased me about. Said you bought it for me because it looked like me, all kind and angelic.” 

Crowley beamed. “You kept it?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I kept all of them. The trinkets, the jewelry, every little thing you got for me. They’re precious.” 

Crowley set the phone down and climbed into his angel’s lap. “I never knew...I thought you’d...when we weren’t...”

“Oh, no my love. They were what kept me going. I’d take them down and, as the humans say, take a walk down memory lane.” 

Crowley nuzzled him. “It’s hard, y’know. Finding something that will be as memorable. I know you so well, an’ yet...I dunno what to get you that’s..special. Something that’s...really from me, y’know?”

Aziraphale kissed his head. “Darling, you already  **have** given me something of yours. You gave it to me in Eden.”

Crowley groaned. “Angel, don’t say...”

Aziraphale grinned. “You gave me your heart.”

Crowley groaned again and stuffed a pillow in his husband’s face. “Stop being such a soft sap.”

Aziraphale giggled. 


	6. Naughty Vs Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion of natures.

Chapter Six: Naughty vs Nice

“It’s arbitrary!”

“Says the **literal demon from Hell!** ” 

“Oi, that’s different! I’m made to be naughty, I am.”

“Oh yes, and you’re so good at it. Bringing me gifts, rescuing me from the Bastille, running into a church to save me...”

“Those were...purely selfish moves on my part. I was trying to tempt you with the gifts!”

“Uh huh. **Marrying** me?”

“Well, um...binding you to an evil demon for all Eternity? That’s pretty naughty.”

“Yes, you looked very evil standing in front of me, blubbering like a fool. Tell me, was it your evil nature that made you say all those lovely words and promise to love me forever?”

“Angel! ‘Snot like you’re the nicest person. What about the way you treat customers?”

“They should know better than to try and buy my books. But I am an angel.”

“If you say. ‘We’re meant to be nice’, I am taking back the box of gourmet chocolates I got for you.”

“I would never. Gabriel’s an asshole.”

“Ha! But come on, you have to admit that kids being told that getting toys relies on their behavior is pretty bad.”

“Well….it is rather backwards. Now, you said something about gourmet chocolate?”

“Oh no no no, you didn’t hear about that, nope, no chocolates, was trying to distract you...don’t look at me like that...Uggh. **Fine**. Stupid angel.”

“I love you too, darling.”


	7. Christmas Crackers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale looks for the perfect cracker for Crowley.

Chapter Seven: Christmas Crackers

Aziraphale stared helplessly at the shelves in front of him. Who on earth knew that there were so many choices these days? There were small ones, large ones, thin ones, fat ones. There were red ones, green ones, red and green ones, and gold and silver ones. Some had designs, some were simply striped. He was just beginning to walk away, overwhelmed, when a young lady wearing the same uniform he’d seen on the other humans that worked here came over, looking sympathetic. “Do you need any help, Sir?”

Aziraphale could have hugged her. “Yes, I do. I never knew there were so many types of crackers. You see, my husband is just nuts for them. Every year I try to buy him the best I can find, and it’s always a little contest with me to see if I can one up myself. Last year I bought him one that had a working model of a car much like the one he has. He was over the moon.”

The worker- Sheryl, read Aziraphale on the plastic tag, smiled. “That’s so sweet. How long have you been married?”

Aziraphale smiled. For all intents and purposes, he and Crowley had considered themselves married for 6,000 years. “Feels like forever, sometimes. But we had a legal union when gay marriage became legal.” It had been wonderful, Aziraphale thought with a happy smile. He’d never seen Crowley so overwhelmed with true happiness.

Sheryl grinned. “That’s so great. Now, you said your husband likes cars?”

“Loves them. He’s got a 1930s Bentley. He..” Aziraphale stopped himself. “He inherited it. From his grandfather. Apart from his garden, it’s his pride and joy.”

“Oh. he’s got a garden?”

Aziraphale was always ready and eager to boast about Crowley’s garden. “Oh, yes, a massive one.” Off Sheryl’s look, he smiled. “We live in the country. I just came into Soho to do some shopping.” And of course to check on the bookshop. Even now, there were still books that needed to be moved.

Sheryl nodded in understanding. “So what’s he like?”

“Oh, he’s wonderful. He’s my complete opposite, dresses in dark clothes, affects an air of broodiness, pretends to be...what’s the word...prickly...when the reality is he’s the sweetest, kindest man I’ve ever known.”

“I’d go for this cracker right here.” Sheryl handed him a gigantic silver and gold cracker. “It says on the sticker what’s inside it.”

Aziraphale looked at the sticker and burst out laughing. “My dear, that is perfect! I’ll take it.” Still chuckling, he paid for his purchase, making sure to leave a blessing on Sheryl, who would find herself making a very nice bonus.

Crowley, who had **not** been sitting in front of the window and waiting for his husband, ran over to the sofa and sat, lounging as only he could. He picked up his phone and scrolled through. “Hey Angel.”

Aziraphale came and sat next to him. “You were staring out the window again.”

“Was not. Been on the phone all day. Barely noticed you were gone.”

“Uh huh. So why is the phone upside down?”

Crowley’s ears flamed. “Issa...new way of reading.” He put the phone down. “Did you get one?” Aziraphale held up a paper bag. “Gimmee gimmee gimmee!” 

“Honestly. You know tradition is to wait until Christmas proper.” Aziraphale scolded lightly, handing the cracker over. Crowley held it to his chest. “Go on, then.”

Crowley giggled and took hold of both ends, then with a smile handed one end to the angel. “Both of us, yeah? Since this is, well, the first Christmas we’re gonna spend together without having….other obligations.”

Aziraphale felt his heart swell with love. “Oh, Crowley.” He took one end of the cracker. “On three. One. Two. Three!” 

The bang was a very satisfactory one, and Crowley laughed until he cried at the toy angel with the rainbow wings inside. 

All in all, thought Aziraphale, it had been a very successful shopping trip. 


	8. Bell Ringing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale recounts an unpleasant encounter.

Chapter Eight: Bell Ringing

“You look a bit flustered, Angel.” Crowley said as Aziraphale stomped into their house in a high dudgeon, muttering under his breath.

“Think they know what She defines as love, narrow minded bigots, the lot of them, and **that stupid bell!** ” 

Crowley set aside his phone and sat up, giving his husband his full attention. “Whoa, slow down. What happened?”

Aziraphale blew out a breath and slung himself on the couch. “Well, after I checked on the shop and made arrangements for the last pile of books, I decided I was going to treat myself to a lovely cake from that bakery down the road. The one we used to visit all the time.”

“Yeah, I know it. So what happened?”

“There was a human outside with one of those red buckets. The ones belonging to that, well….organization.”

Crowley made a face. “Yeah. Would you believe I had to convince Beelzebub that having those guys standing and ringing that stupid bell was something they did voluntarily?” Aziraphale gave him a ghost of a smile. “Sorry. So was it the bell that set you off? Hey, you don’t have extra wings, do you?” 

Aziraphale smacked his arm. “I rue the day I let you show me that movie. But no. Now I know that while they may not have the best...opinions when it comes to certain things, most of the people they farm out as bell ringers are just doing it because they have no choice. But this man...” Aziraphale made a face. “While I was waiting for my cake, two lovely young ladies came walking down the street. It was quite clear they were a couple, and very much in love.”

“Let me guess. Guy started spouting some homophobic bullshit.”

Aziraphale’s face darkened. “He said some extremely rude things and spouted the usual nonsense about how they were going to burn in Hell, and this whole time for some unknown reason he’s still ringing that bell.”

Crowley sat up on his knees, fully invested. “So whatcha do? Go out and give him a stern lecture? You’re great for stern lectures. Or did you make it so all his change fell out of his bucket?”

“That’s more your style, darling. I’m an angel.”

Crowley grinned. “Didja smite him?” 

Aziraphale looked supremely offended. “Of course not!” He smoothed down his shirt. “I smited the bell.”

Crowley blinked, then fell off the couch, laughing until tears came from his eyes. 


	9. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has a wonderful surprise for Crowley.

Chapter Nine: Cookies

“Oi, Angel! You’ve got a package.” Crowley signed for it, then slammed the door in the courier’s face and examined the small box. “Can’t see where it’s from, though.”

“A package? What on...Oh! Bring it into the kitchen, darling.” Crowley obliged, smiling at the sight of his husband in his floury apron. Aziraphale had been working all morning on a Special Project, and no matter how hard Crowley turned on the Temptation, Aziraphale remained resolute and refused to tell him what it was, only saying it was a surprise. “This is wonderful! Now my surprise won’t have to wait. Go on and open it, love.”

Crowley snapped his fingers, and the package split open. Aziraphale gave him a look. “What? You’re looking at the demon who invented ‘easy open’ packaging.” He dug into the box, which was full of packing peanuts. “Got a commendation for these, too.”

“Those things get everywhere.”

Crowley grinned. “Yep. One time I put some in Beelz’s office. They opened their door and next thing...” He pulled something out. “Wot’s this?”

Aziraphale beamed. “Cookie cutters! I had them custom made. Go on, open them!”

Crowley opened the carton and dumped the contents onto the counter. He gulped and picked one up. “It’s an apple.” Aziraphale nodded. “An’...that’s...the Ark, and is that a knight?” Another nod. “Um...th...that’s the laurel crown I wore in Rome, and...an oyster?”

“Every important thing in our lives. There’s even a Bentley, and the bookshop.”

Crowley held up a cutter, blinking back tears. “First time I’ve ever touched a church and not been burned. But uh...what’s with the letter S?”

Aziraphale kissed his nose. “It’s a snake, you silly serpent. It’s you. My lovely snake. There’s one more, though. It’s a bit bigger, so it may be boxed separately.”

Crowley rummaged around in the box and pulled out a cookie cutter larger than the others. “Is that...”

“Alpha Centauri.”

There was nothing for Crowley to do but kiss his husband breathless. Aziraphale grinned. “Now, ready to make some cookies?”

“Was that the surprise?” Crowley asked as he watched Aziraphale roll out dough. Aziraphale nodded.

“Which cutter do you want to use first, love?”

Crowley selected the apple. Aziraphale laughed and picked up one shaped like an angel. “Shall we make our own cookie Eden?”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”


	10. Hannukah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale celebrate Hannukah.

Chapter Ten: Hannukah

Aziraphale peeked into the oven, grinning. The brisket was coming along beautifully, and the latkes looked nice and crisp. The dough for the rugelach and sufganiyot was proofing, and the filling for the donuts-an apple custard courtesy of his beloved demon’s apples-was tart and delicious.

Aziraphale smiled as he heard the front door open. “Did you find some?” Crowley came into the kitchen, a paper bag in hand.

“Had to go to nearly five bloody stores, but yeah.” He dumped the bag on the counter, spilling out five packages of gelt. “Don’t get why you like that stuff. It’s the cheapest chocolate you can buy.” He swiped a finger through the custard. Aziraphale glared at him, and Crowley smirked before sticking his finger in his mouth and sucking off the custard. “Delicious, but isn’t it s’posed to be jam?”

“Jam takes too long.” Aziraphale said, moving the bowl out of Crowley’s reach and getting a frown. “And I like gelt just fine. It’s tradition.”

“Could always miracle some up. After all, this is about miracles, right?” Crowley asked snitching some dough. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and not so gently poked his husband between the wing blades. “Oi!”

“Go and get the menorah set up, foul fiend.” Aziraphale chided. Crowley pouted and slouched out of the kitchen. Aziraphale opened one of the packages of gelt and ate one. Okay, yes, the chocolate was not the best, but it **was** chocolate. He took out the brisket and latkes, placing them on the counter. 

Crowley carefully set the menorah on the table. Even through the gloves he was wearing, the holy object still tingled and burned, like he was touching a live wire. He smoothed out the cloth, then placed the candles in their holders. 

“Dinner’s ready, love.” Aziraphale came out to the living room. Crowley stripped off his gloves and went into the bathroom to wash up. Aziraphale bustled about setting the table. Crowley came out and sat. 

“Looks positively delicious, Angel.” 

After dinner, they went over to the menorah. Aziraphale summoned Holy Flame, and lit the first candle. “You know, I got a commendation from Heaven for the miracle of the oil. But I seem to remember that I was in China at the time.”

Crowley blushed. “Don’t look at me, I’ve no idea how that happened. I was nowhere in the area, not me.”

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Darling, you think I hadn’t figured it out years ago? You try to deny it, but you’re the sweetest.”

Crowley mumbled. “Silly Angel. H’ppy Hannukah.”

“You too, my love.”


	11. Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley was coming up the garden path when he saw the light in the window. Orange. Red. Flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm going to write all fluff for these prompts!  
> My brain: Write about Crowley having a flashback to the bookshop fire!

Chapter Eleven: Candles

Crowley was coming around the garden path when he saw the light from the windows. Orange. Red. Flames. At the window. With a cry that made the birds fly from their trees, he ran down the path and burst into the cottage. “AZIRAPHALE?!”

Smoke, fire, his eyes were stinging, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, smoke was filling his lungs, ash was in his mouth, he fell to his knees, hugging himself, because his love was gone, burned up, he could smell the books burning, he…

“Crowley!” Aziraphale. That was Aziraphale. Crowley couldn’t see him, the smoke was too thick, why couldn’t he breathe?! “Darling, look at me.” Crowley felt a soft, plump hand on his face. “Come on, love, look at me.” Crowley focused. Aziraphale. Alive. Not burned. “There we go.”

Crowley wailed and threw himself into his angel’s arms. “Don’t burn up again, please don’t. I couldn’t take it, can’t lose you, can’t...” He felt strong, soft arms embrace him.

“Oh, my serpent. I’m so sorry. I bought some Christmas candles when I went into town, and I didn’t even think...I’m so sorry.”

Crowley blinked. “C...candles?” He looked around the parlor. Now that the panic was receding, he could see candles in the window, some decorated with fake holly leaves. “G...S...I thought...I saw the f...flames, an...” Satan, he was such a useless demon.

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “I should have waited to light them. I’m so sorry, my love.”

Crowley sniffled. “Nah, it’s...okay. Christmas tradition, innit? Candles?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Not if you don’t want it to be. But you are okay with the menorah?”

Crowley shifted so he was fully in Aziraphale’s lap. “Yeah, ‘cause I watch you light it. Jus’...make sure you do that with the other candles next time, yeah? Or let me light one?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”


	12. Ugly Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale fully embraces the ugly sweater tradition.

Chapter Twelve: Ugly Sweaters

“Crowley darling, could you come here for a moment? I have a surprise.” Aziraphale asked from the porch. Crowley stuck the trowel into the frozen earth, then stood and wiped his hands on his denims.

“Yeah, course.” He came up to the porch and gave the angel a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling at the soft blush. “What’s up?”

“Erm, well,” his husband wrung his hands, a gesture that meant nerves and was also unaccountably adorable, “you know how we’re trying to celebrate as many Christmas traditions as possible?”

“Yeah? What, did you get a partridge in a pear tree?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale chuckled.

“No, I...oh, just come inside so I can show you.” Crowley followed him inside, and Aziraphale directed him to sit on the sofa before disappearing into the bedroom. He returned with his hands full. “Now, you have to close your eyes.” Smiling, Crowley obeyed. Aziraphale dumped the whatever it was in his lap. Crowley heard him visibly gulp. “Okay, you can open them.”

Crowley opened his eyes, then groaned. “Angel, tell me you didn’t!”

Aziraphale smirked. “I did. I thought it would be fun!”

Crowley groaned again. Blessed ugly sweaters. How he wished he had been the one to come up with the idea in the first place. But that was all on the humans. He’d seen some eye bleeding ones ever since the trend started, and now his angel was caught up in it. “Aziraphale...” he moaned. He was a fashionable demon, him. Not one to wear stupid ugly jumpers. “So where’d you find these?”

Aziraphale looked supremely offended. “I didn’t find them anywhere. I made them.”

“You made…?” Crowley picked up the top jumper. It was a rather nice kelly green, with… “Is that me? As a snake? With wings?” The Crowley-snake was holding a candy cane in its coils, licking at the top with a snakey smile. Aziraphale nodded. Crowley ran his hands over the material. It was very soft. “I’s okay.” Crowley grumbled, already starting to go red. He set it aside and picked up the next one. “Oh, Angel!” Crowley burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, this one is hideous!”

The sweater was bright red. Written across the front, in snakes done up in candy cane colors, was WE WISH YOU A MERRY HISS-MAS.

Crowley howled with laughter, toppling over. Aziraphale was giggling too. “Oh, I had to! Try one on please. I want to see if I did a good job.”

“Just a sec. Wot’s with the tube socks?” The rest of the pile consisted of a long red tube sock, a green one, and one done in stripes. Aziraphale blushed.

“They’re for when you’re a snake. I miracled them so no matter what size you are, they fit. Do you like them?”

Crowley blinked back tears, shed his coat and shirt, and pulled the red jumper over his head. The material was very soft and warm, and he ran his hands down it, smiling. “I’s soft. Warm. Like my angel.”

“I love you too.” Aziraphale said, then with a wicked grin he snatched up Crowley’s phone and snapped a picture. “And I can’t wait to send this to Anathema.”

“ANGEL!”


	13. Nativity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale go to a Living Nativity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a true incident.

Chapter Thirteen: Nativity

“Oh, Crowley, look at this!” Aziraphale came into the cottage, waving a piece of paper. “The village is doing a living Nativity, and everyone’s involved.” He handed the brightly colored flier to his husband.

**LIVING NATIVITY!** It read in big, bold letters. **SEE BETHLEHEM RECREATED! DONKEYS! CAMELS! ANGELS! DON’T MISS IT!**

Below in smaller letters: To be held on Town Common from 8 pm until 11 pm Friday.

“Yeah, okay, we can go.” Crowley said, tossing the paper on the table. Aziraphale beamed. “Were you there?”

Aziraphale smirked. “Who do you think got the last room?”

Crowley laughed. “I met him a few times when he was younger. But never really got to know him until I did the whole Temptation bit. He was...” Crowley’s breath hitched. “He was alright, you know? Knew just what I was, but treated me same as any other bloke. It...it wasn’t fair, what happened to him.”

Aziraphale pulled his husband close. “No, it wasn’t.”

Friday night found them standing in a line of people, waiting to be let in. From where they were, they could see the actors recreating the Annunciation. Crowley nudged Aziraphale. “The bloke they picked for Gabriel is all wrong. Doesn’t look like a wanker to me.” Aziraphale stifled a giggle. “Mary’s alright, though. Young like she was. Bit prettier.”

The line moved, and soon the angel and demon were in front of the Gabriel and Mary actors. ‘Gabriel’ cleared his throat. “Behold, for I bring tidings of great joy!”

Aziraphale whispered, “Hey, guess what, you’re gonna have a kid.” Crowley bit his tongue to keep from cackling.

Mary looked suitably awed. “Oh, great Angel of the Lord...”

“Purple eyed wanker,” Crowley mumbled, and this time Aziraphale could not hold back his giggle.

“You shall bear a son, and He will be Lord!” ‘Gabriel’ said. Mary fell to her knees.

“Praise God! I am His Servant.”

“Her.” Crowley growled. Aziraphale elbowed him sharply. “Come on, let’s go on the Road to Bethlehem.”

They followed the crowd down the ‘Road’, where more actors dressed as shepherds sat under makeshift tents with fires(it was a cold night, and Crowley was very thankful for his snake jumper). “Uh oh.” The demon stopped, and Aziraphale ran smack into him. “Animals up ahead. They’re gonna...sense me.”

Aziraphale looked nonplussed. “I...I hadn’t thought about that. The last thing we need is a stampede.” He frowned, then brightened and snapped his fingers. “There. You’ll smell human. At least long enough for us to go through the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Angel.” Crowley said, walking past a camel. The camel whuffed, and Crowley froze. Nothing happened, and Crowley breathed out in relief. “Nice camel.” He said to the owner.

Aziraphale, of course, was petting all the animals, cooing over them. The animals, sensing what he was, were quite happy. Crowley waited patiently while his husband cooed over a sheep before coming over to join the demon. “Oh, there’s the stable.”

Crowley shoved his way to the front, reveling in the glares he got. Aziraphale politely excused himself. Crowley was standing in the very front, peering hard at the Baby Jesus in Mary’s arms. “Uh, Angel...there’s something odd about that baby.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Now, Crowley, that is hardly...” The angel looked. “Oh. Well. Um...”

“Oh. My. Satan. It’s...it’s a DOLL!” Crowley burst into mad giggles. Aziraphale’s face twitched, and he dissolved into laughter as well.

“Crowley, it’s not hahahaha that **gasp** funny!”

“They could afford camels but couldn’t find someone with a real baby?!” Crowley was doubled over, tears coming from his eyes. “That’s fucking hilarious!” 

Aziraphale, still gasping with laughter, pulled Crowley away from the crowd. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You don’t wanna finish?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Last bit’s the Crucifixion, and neither of us wants to be reminded of that. Besides, you’re freezing. Don’t try to deny it.”

“Okay. But I want cocoa. With marshmallows.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “I think I can arrange that.” 


	14. Fairy Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley recreates his stars in the garden.

Chapter Fourteen: Fairy Lights

Crowley stood back to admire his handiwork. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d accomplished what he set out to do. Now all that was left was to see what Aziraphale thought. The demon checked to make sure everything that he needed was right in reach before heading back up to their house.

He could see Aziraphale in the window, bustling about, hanging holly and strings of cranberries through the house. The smell of baking cookies drifted through the air, and Crowley’s mouth watered. He came into the house, breathing in the sharp scent of the fireplace. Aziraphale was on tiptoe, trying to nail a piece of holly above the mantel. “Oh, come on you stupid...”

“Could just miracle it on.” Crowley drawled, grinning. The angel huffed and glared over his shoulder.

“I know, but that’s cheating. Crowley, darling, could you?” The angel simpered at him, and Crowley came over, placing the holly sprig on the nail. “Oh, thank you.” Aziraphale kissed him. “Darling, you’re freezing! I’ll make you some cocoa!”

“Save it, Angel. Got something to show you outside.” Crowley said, taking Aziraphale’s hand. “But you gotta close your eyes.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes, and Crowley carefully led him outside and down the drive. “Can I open them yet?”

“Mm...yeah.”

Aziraphale opened his eyes and gasped aloud. “Oh, Crowley!”

Crowley’s garden had been transformed. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of fairy lights were everywhere, draped over bushes, wrapped around trees, hanging from branches. They twinkled and shone, rivaling the stars above. Aziraphale blinked, then walked over to one set of lights. “There’s a pattern.”

Crowley nodded, then gulped. “It’s...my stars. I still remember them all, you know. Every single one I built. That one’s the Horsehead Nebula. I can’t...Create anymore, but I can...replicate.”

“Oh, my love...” Aziraphale pulled Crowley into his embrace. “You are a constant marvel to me. You shine so bright, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, but this only part of the surprise.” Crowley said, walking over to one of his trees. “Come over here.”

Aziraphale came over. A blanket was spread out on the ground, and on top was a wicker basket. “Fancy a picnic, Angel? We’ve got sandwiches, and chips, and even...” He pulled out a thermos, grinning, “hot chocolate.”

Aziraphale laughed and sat down. “You amaze me, my love.”

Crowley blushed and leaned into his embrace, sighing as Aziraphale ran his hands through his hair.

“I try.”


	15. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistletoe, reflections, and kisses.

Chapter Fifteen: Mistletoe

Crowley tied the last of the bundles above the bedroom door, smiling to himself. While he knew he and Aziraphale didn’t need an excuse to kiss, these days, it was still fun. The demon found himself thinking back to when he had first heard about ‘kissing under the mistletoe,’ many years ago. He had taken(stolen) a sprig of mistletoe from some rich man’s garden and brought it to Aziraphale, holding it above his head with a grin. “Tradition says you gotta kiss me, Angel.” Aziraphale had put up a token protest before grabbing Crowley by his shirt and yanking him into a sinfully wonderful kiss.

Over the years, especially around the holidays, Crowley would sometimes show up with the mistletoe, dangle it over his head, and get thoroughly kissed. It was enough, because it had to be. As much as they loved one another, and as much as they considered themselves to be married, it was far too dangerous for them to be together for any length of time. Crowley started growing mistletoe-the plant was incredibly tenacious and grew well-so that he had a ready supply for the next time.

Crowley’s mind skipped over the time he called The Schism, those terrible years when he thought he had lost the love of his eternal damnation forever. He had rained destruction on his mistletoe plants, reducing them to ashes and then collapsed in the ruins, sobbing as his heart broke into a million pieces.

His job done, Crowley went out to wait for Aziraphale to come back. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called from the front door. “Come help me, my hands are full.”

Crowley opened the door, smiling at the bundle-laden angel. “Been busy?”

“Oh, just some bits and baubles for the house. Here, take one.” The angel shoved a bag into the demon’s hands. Crowley oofed and took it. “Well?”

Crowley flicked his gaze upward, knowing Aziraphale would mirror it. Sure enough...”Oh! Mistletoe!” Aziraphale reached out with his free hand and kissed his husband. “Sweet serpent. Now, let me in.” Dazed, Crowley stepped aside. Aziraphale set the bags on the kitchen island. “So tell me, is the mistletoe hung over every door?”

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale came over, tugging at Crowley’s hair. “And what’s your plan, you foul fiend?”

Crowley grinned. “I plan to make an angel fall.”

Aziraphale laughed and pulled Crowley close. “My love...I did that centuries ago.”


	16. Tree Trimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale have found their tree.

Chapter Sixteen: Tree Trimming

“This one will do nicely, I think,” Aziraphale said, staring up at what was probably the most enormous fir Crowley had ever seen in his eternal life. The trunk was easily as big as him and the angel put together. Crowley craned his neck, looking up and up.

“It’s bloody enormous, Angel.”

“Well, isn’t that the idea? Get a big tree, decorate it?” Aziraphale asked, pouting a bit. Crowley sighed.

“Yeah, it is. Alright, fine. I’ll go pay the man. You bring it up front.” Aziraphale wiggled happily. Crowley smiled in fond affection, pulled the ticket with a number off one of the branches, and headed for the front of the Christmas tree park, where a makeshift counter stood. He smiled disarmingly at the kid running it. “So we found the tree we want. That bloody great fir. Number….uh...thirty two.”

“Sure thing. Do you need any help...” the kid’s voice trailed off, and Crowley didn’t even have to turn to know what he was seeing. Aziraphale, carrying a tree larger and taller than himself like it was made of paper. He set it down in front of the counter, panting lightly.

“Crowley darling, have you paid?” Crowley nodded. “Oh good.” He lowered his voice. “Distract the humans, please. I’m going to miracle this tree home.” Crowley grinned and did just that.

Aziraphale glared at him, snapped his fingers, then picked him up and snapped them both home before depositing his husband on the floor. “When I said distract them, I did not mean for you to turn into a fifty foot snake! Honestly!”

Crowley gave a snaky smirk. “Worked, didn’t it? Oi, we left the Bentley there!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “That is not...yes, it worked. And your bloody car is outside. Now, do you want to help decorate the tree?”

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale picked him up, and Crowley made himself a bit smaller so he could wrap himself around his angel. The tree was already in its stand, and Crowley hissed at it. “Lissten, you ssilly tree...”

Aziraphale gave him a light slap on the nose. “You are not allowed to threaten the Christmas tree, do you understand?” Crowley looked supremely offended. “I mean it.”

“Fine.” He slithered off Aziraphale and up the trunk, expanding himself as he went, wrapping his long coils around the branches. “Angel, look! I’m garland!”

Aziraphale snorted, opening a box of ornaments. “You’re a nuisance, is what you are.” Crowley poked his head out of the tree and Aziraphale hung an ornament on his nose. “There. Very festive.”

“Angel!” Crowley carefully took the ornament off and looped it over the branch. “You don’t hang ornaments on the garland.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Well, if the garland would be so nice as to help the angel trim the tree, I would be most grateful.”

Crowley was, of course, more than happy to help. After the tree was trimmed, Aziraphale had one last touch. He pulled out a Santa hat from one of the boxes, then with a small miracle made it snake-head size and plopped it on Crowley’s head. “There. You look wonderfully festive.”

Crowley was very glad snakes couldn’t blush.


	17. Ornament/Bauble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A box of ornaments, and a trip down Memory Lane.

Chapter Seventeen: Ornament/Bauble

Crowley sat cross legged on the floor, a huge box in front of him. Written across the top, in the angel’s neat, copperplate writing was ORNAMENTS. “Hey, Angel, we forgot a box.”

Aziraphale turned from the tree, where he was hanging a string of lights that he had miracled to look like old fashioned candles. “Did we?” Crowley pointed to the clearly visible box, and Aziraphale sighed and came over. “We’ve already got so many ornaments on there. Well, open it up and let’s see what’s inside.”

Crowley snapped his fingers, and the box opened. Both angel and demon peered inside. Crowley was the first to reach in, pulling out what looked like a string of shriveled cranberries. “Is this...”

Aziraphale nodded, touching it with reverence. “From the first Christmas we spent together. In Germany. The concept of decorating the tree had just come about.”

“The pagan concept,” Crowley said cheekily. Aziraphale smiled.

“Indeed. But it was a good one, so I felt no qualms. I remember you insisted that we had to do it, if only to spite Heaven.”

Crowley kissed his cheek. “And you didn’t take much convincing, despite your flustered posturing, if I recall.” Aziraphale blushed, and Crowley set the string of cranberries aside and pulled out another object. “A biscuit tin?”

Aziraphale took it. “It’s uh...from a friend. A soldier, in the First War. I was there, you know. During it all.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. Were you...was the Christmas Truce your doing?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“No, that was the humans. But it...for one brief moment, there was light in the endless darkness. I missed you so much during those times, my love. Sometimes it felt like I was being torn in half with how much. I told John-the soldier-about you. Said that I wished that I could take back everything I said to hurt you, and if I could turn back time I’d do everything different.” Aziraphale took a breath. “Look inside the tin.”

Crowley opened it. Inside lay papers, as pristine as they were the day an angelic hand placed them inside. “Angel, what?”

“They’re letters I wrote to you but never had the courage to send. Letters of love, of...contrition, begging for your forgiveness.” Crowley stared at them, then put them back. “You’re not going to read them?”

“Later. I have something to show you.” Crowley reached into the box and pulled out a shoe box. “Here.”

Aziraphale opened the box, revealing objects wrapped carefully and lovingly in paper. “What?” He took the paper off one. “It’s an angel.”

“No. It’s you. Or as close as I could get. Had a glass maker do that one. His first commission.”

Aziraphale looked closer. The angel was made of glass, and it-HE-had golden hair and wings. In one hand was...”That’s my sword.” Crowley nodded, tracing the angel ornament’s wings with one finger. “I saw you, once, in Heaven. When you were given your sword. I had come back from nebula building, and there you were. You looked so...vulnerable, so lost.”

“I never wanted to be a warrior.” Aziraphale whispered. “It just...happened.”

“I know, my angel. I know.” Crowley gently took the ornament and hung it on the tree. “Open the rest of them.” Aziraphale unwrapped the rest of the ornaments in the shoe box.

“They’re all of me.” Aziraphale said with happy tears, holding up an angel dressed in Roman robes. “Wait...is that an oyster?” Sure enough, the glass angel was holding a glass oyster, perfectly shaped. “When did you?”

“Told ya, had a glass maker do them. Made him rich. It was...during the Schism. I had a cabinet in my flat, and I had them in there. I’d...every Christmas, I’d conjure up a small tree and hang them, and it was like you were there with me. I never stopped loving you.”

Aziraphale set the box down and pulled Crowley into a kiss that made the demon’s toes curl.


	18. Carol Singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion of Christmas carols.

Chapter Eighteen: Carol Singing

Aziraphale came into the house, setting his purchases on the kitchen counter. “I ran into Mr. Hollis at the market.”

Crowley didn’t look up from his phone. “The bloke that directs the choir at church?”

“That’s him. He asked if we would be interested in helping out with the Carol program. Apparently some people from the village go around to all the houses and sing.”

Crowley snorted. “No thanks. Me that close to all that holy music? I’ll get hives.”

Aziraphale came over to the couch, knocking Crowley’s legs aside so he could sit down. Crowley replaced his legs on Aziraphale’s lap, and the angel stroked them. “Not all carols are holy, Crowley. We could ask Mr. Hollis for secular music if we go.”

Crowley snorted. “Yeah, guess so.” He looked up from his phone and grinned. “We could ask him if we could sing Do They Know...”

” **Absolutely not.”** Aziraphale’s voice was a snarl, and Crowley gulped, visibly cowed. “You know how I feel about that...that **tripe.** ” 

Crowley did know. Gabriel had been so proud of influencing the humans to write ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’? Aziraphale, upon first hearing it, had been frozen in horrified shock for nearly ten minutes before launching into a tirade that Crowley had yet to see matched, and which ended in the angel draining an entire bottle of scotch and declaring that Gabriel was the “most ignorant fathead asshole he’d ever known.” Even now, just hearing the opening chords was enough to make the angel feel very smitey. “ Jus’ a joke, Angel.”

“I know. What about Carol of the Bells? You like that, and it’s not holy.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, but the best version is Trans Siberian Orchestras’, and it’s kinda hard to sing to that bit of music. But you can go if you want. I’ll have hot cocoa waiting for you when you get back.”

“Oh, but you have such a lovely voice. I wanted to make the others jealous.”

Crowley set his phone down and moved so he was fully in Aziraphale’s lap. “I save my voice for my angel.” He pecked Aziraphale’s cheek, and Aziraphale wiggled happily. Crowley wrapped his arms around the soft body, and sang in the angel’s ear, his voice a soft tenor. 

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, but my angel is so delightful, and as long as he loves me so...let it snow let it snow let it snow.”


	19. Holiday Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale hasn't seen many holiday films. Crowley wants to remedy that.

Chapter Nineteen: Holiday Movies

“You know, Angel, there’s another Christmas tradition.” Crowley said, sprawled happily across his husband’s lap. “The holiday movies.”

Aziraphale made a face. “I would think you would want to bypass that tradition, seeing as you, how did you put it once? ‘Hate that Hallmark bullshit?’” Crowley giggled at getting his husband to swear.

“Well, yeah.” The demon waved expansively. “I do hate that shit. It’s A Wonderful Life? Complete and utter bollocks. As if any angel could do what that Clarence bloke did. And I ask you, what sort of name is Clarence anyway? Hardly angelic.”

“The story is...saccharine, I’ll grant you. And that stupid ‘bells ring and an angel gets wings’ is rather...well...idiotic.”

“An’ another thing!” Crowley gestured again and nearly fell off Aziraphale, steadying himself. “Actin’ as though wosserface not marrying Jimmy Stewart and becoming a librarian is the pinnacle o’...horribleness is...horrible. Don’t see why issa holiday classic.”

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

Crowley smirked. “C’mon, Angel, there’s gotta be a holiday classic you can’t stand.”

“You know I don’t watch as much...cinema as you do, my love.” Aziraphale said. Crowley cackled.

“Oh, don’t play innocent wif me. Everyone’s got one.”

Aziraphale wrung his hands. “I honestly don’t. I don’t watch enough.” Crowley sighed.

“Yeah, fair point. We’ll have to remedy that!” With that, Crowley snapped his fingers. A pile of DVDs appeared on the coffee table, and a giant flatscreen suddenly found itself on the wall. “You pick first.”

Aziraphale picked up the pile. “Crowley! This a horror movie!”

“Takes place at Christmas. Kid gets the Mogwai for a Christmas present, and there’s a bit about Santa. It’s good. I promise.”

Ninety minutes later, Aziraphale had crawled into Crowley’s lap and buried his face in his chest. “You could have told me that the ‘bit about Santa’ was her father getting stuck in the chimney!” The angel said. “Can we please watch something ‘not’ about death and destruction?”

Crowley patted the blond curls. “Sure.”

“Oh, that was much better. I feel so sorry for Jack, though.”

“Why? He got his mojo back, and he’s gonna have a **great** Halloween next time.”

“Well, I...I know what it’s like to feel like an outcast.”

“Oh.” 

Aziraphale grinned. “You pick the next one.”

Crowley grinned back. “Got the perfect one. The ultimate Christmas movie.”

“Christmas Carol? I notice you have the Muppets one.”

“Cuz it’s the best. But no, not that one.” Crowley held up a DVD. “It’s not Christmas until Alan Rickman falls off Nakotomi Plaza.”

“...I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Course it is.”

“Look, just because the movie supposedly takes place at Christmas...”

“Supposedly? There’s a party and everything!”

“Does not mean it is, by definition, a Christmas movie.”

“Yes it bloody well does! Now shut up, it’s starting.”

Aziraphale started to protest anew and found his mouth stuffed with an apple. He took it out, tossed it aside, and smiled wickedly at his husband. “You know, if you wanted me to shut up, you could have found a much better way.” He whispered before kissing Crowley. The demon moaned and kissed back. 

“Gonna...miss...movie...” He groaned, but then Aziraphale did something with his hands and he forgot everything. 


	20. Christmas List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale writes his Christmas list.

Chapter Twenty: Christmas List

“Whatcha working on, Angel?” Crowley asked leaning over Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale sighed and covered the paper in front of him.

“It’s private, Crowley.” The angel said, letting a tone of admonishment creep into his voice. Rather than deterring the demon, it only fueled his curiosity. With the speed of a snake, he snatched the list out from under Aziraphale. “Give that back!”

Crowley held the paper up just out of the angel’s reach. “Wot, this?”

“Yes! Give it back right now!” Aziraphale admonished, standing on his tiptoes. “This isn’t funny!”

Crowley held the paper at arms length and began reading in a dramatic voice. “Dear Santa….” Really, Angel? A Christmas list?”

“It’s tradition! Now give it back, you foul fiend!” Aziraphale made another grab for it, and Crowley danced out of his way, giggling. Aziraphale pouted. “Crowlleey...”

“Hang on, I’m reading.” The demon dramatically cleared his throat. “I hope this letter finds you well...blah blah elves blah blah you do go on, Angel, Ah! For Christmas this year I do not want anything.” Crowley blinked. “Really? My hedonistic darling not want anything?” He gave Aziraphale a skeptical look. “Because...” Crowley suddenly went still. Aziraphale came over and looked into the golden eyes.

“Because I already have everything I could ever want. I have the love of my eternal life. I have freedom. I have the joy of going to bed with him every night and waking up with him every morning. I have the peace of knowing no one can touch us. I have the serenity of watching him in his garden, looking so calm and peaceful that it makes me love him even more. I have his kisses night and day. I have his smile, his laugh, and his soft eyes. I have new traditions, old traditions, and our traditions. I have the love of Anthony J Crowley, the Serpent of Eden, and that is enough for a million presents.”

Crowley didn’t even try to control the tears of happiness that flowed down his face as he kissed his love. “Angel, do you have more paper?”

“Of course. Why?”

Crowley smiled. “Think I need to write my list too.”


	21. Solstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley hates the Solstice because he's always cold. Worse, he's due for a shed. But this time, unlike all the other times, he has an angel to help.

Chapter Twenty One: Solstice

Crowley groused to himself as he snuggled deeper into the soft warmth of their bed. He was wrapped in two of the jumpers Aziraphale had made for him, as well as two blankets and a rather nice feather down quilt, but still he shivered. The cold seemed to be seeping through his bones.

He hated this time of year. No matter where he was, the solstice-especially the winter one-was tough on him. He would feel the cold seep in, and no amount of demonic fire could keep him warm. Worst of all was the fact that Aziraphale was never around during that time. Heaven had a knack for sending him on assignments that took him halfway around the world and kept him there long after the Solstice had passed.

Crowley was feeling more grumpy than usual this year, though. He was itching all over, and when he wasn’t itching, he was shivering. His skin felt clammy, and no matter how many blankets he wrapped himself in, the cold was ever present.

He felt the bed dip a bit, then a soft, wonderfully warm hand stroking through his hair, “My poor darling serpent. This time of year is tough on you, isn’t it?”

“Cold.” Crowley groused, shifting so he could wrap his body around his husband. “Itchy.”

“Oh, my poor darling. Are you due for a shed?”

Crowley blinked. “Dunno. Maybe.” He was even colder in his snake form, but needing to shed would explain how unbearably itchy he felt all over. “Stupid Solstice. Hate it.”

“I know, my love. But I’ll be here for you. Do you want me to get the tub ready for you?”

Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale bustled into the bathroom, setting up everything, including the soothing oils needed after a shed. Crowley very reluctantly got out of bed and shifted to his snake form.

The itch was almost maddening(some scales had already started shedding, and were hanging down), and Crowley thrashed, rubbing against the walls. Aziraphale came out of the bathroom. “Crowley! You’ll hurt yourself.”

“IT ITCHESSS!!!” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale picked him up and carried him into the bathroom, setting him down in the miraculously large tub. The hot water was like a balm, and Crowley felt warmth seeping in. “Itchesss...” he hissed unhappily, and Aziraphale stroked his back.

“My poor darling. Let’s see what we can do to make it stop.” The angel picked up a shedding tool from the tray near him, carefully running it down Crowley’s skin. “Is that okay?”

“Mmm hmm.” Crowley relaxed his coils, and Aziraphale ran the tool down his back, picking up bits of shedding scales as he went. “You ever celebrate Solstice?”

“Oh, sometimes. I always hated that I could never spend one with you, though. Gabriel was always sending me over pillar and post.” The angel gently tapped Crowley’s nose. “Close your eyes, love.”

“Sssnankes can’t do that.” Crowley said. Aziraphale gave him a look.

“I know that. I meant close the membrane so I can get the scales on your face.” Crowley let his membrane drop, and Aziraphale carefully worked the shed over his mouth and nose. “We could celebrate. Make a wreath, that sort of thing.” He said as he peeled off more scales.

Crowley was beginning to feel much better, thank you. “Sssure. Sssounds like fun. Or...” he twisted so he could watch as Aziraphale massaged oil onto his newly sensitive scales, “We could snuggle up to the fire an’ have hot drinks while you read to me.”

“What a lovely idea. A new tradition of our own. Will you be staying a snake?”

“Sssnakess can’t drink cider.” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale laughed.

“Very true.” He patted Crowley. “There. All done, and don’t you look beautiful. You’re always so lovely right after a shed. And all other times, of course. I’ll leave you to get dressed while I go start the fire.”

Crowley slithered out of the tub and shifted to human form. He was still cold, but he felt much better. He bundled himself up in a pair of warm flannel trousers(Aziraphale’s) and two of the jumpers Aziraphale made for him before putting on a pair of warm fuzzy slippers(his) and heading out to the living room.

Aziraphale was sitting on the sofa. The fire was lit, and the angel had placed two mugs on the table. “My poor darling. Come over here.” He lifted the blanket he was snuggled under, and Crowley came over, pressing himself against the heater that was his angelic husband. Aziraphale picked up the book in front of him, cleared his throat, and began reading.

“Marley was dead, to begin with...”


	22. Yule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows up from the previous chapter. Crowley has shed his skin and is feeling much better.

Chapter Twenty Two: Yule

Crowley sighed as he snuggled closer to his angel. He had just shed his skin, and felt much better for it. The maddening itch was gone, for one thing. But he was still cold enough that huddling up against the heater that was his husband was a necessity rather than a luxury. “M’sorry I ruined Solstice for you, Angel.”

Aziraphale snorted and kissed the fiery curls. “Nonsense, my love. You haven’t ruined anything. I’m just so very happy to be here with you, celebrating all the holiday traditions that we never could before.”

Crowley let his head drop onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Could still do Yule. Miracle up a big old log, light it and reflect on things. Might be fun.”

“Oh, that does sound like fun.” Aziraphale snapped his fingers and a huge log appeared in the fireplace. Another snap, and it lit, giving off a slightly sweet scent. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Well, I wanted it to smell nice.” The angel said demurely.

“It does, Angel. Now, what should we reflect on?”

“Hmm.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer. “How about on the fact that we can do this without worrying about fear of discovery? That’s rather nice.”

“Yeah.” Crowley climbed into Aziraphale’s lap. “But there’s something else we can do that’s even better.” The demon whispered before pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s. The angel sighed, burying his hands in Crowley’s sinfully soft hair, and soon they were lost in each other.

In the fireplace, the Yule log burned all night.


	23. Gift Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for prezzies!

Chapter Twenty Three: Gift Exchange

“Hurry up, Angel!” Crowley whined. He was already sitting cross legged on the floor, his golden serpent eyes lighting up with anticipation. “I wanna open presents!”

“Patience is a virtue, love.” Aziraphale said from the kitchen, and Crowley groaned.

“I’m a demon, I have no patience! Get out here before I decide to start without you!”

Aziraphale finally emerged from the kitchen, cups of hot cocoa in his hands and that Bastard Smile on his face. “You wouldn’t. I know you, my love.” He handed Crowley his cocoa-made perfectly, of course-and sat next to him on the floor. Crowley slurped at his cocoa. Aziraphale frowned, and Crowley planted a wet, cocoa-ey kiss to his cheek. “Honestly. So, who goes first?”

Crowley had already snatched up one of the many brightly colored boxes from under their enormous tree. “Here. This is from Book Girl and her lizard. You open it.”

Aziraphale very carefully unwrapped the present. Crowley twitched in anticipation. “Azzirapphale...”

“I refuse to tear into it like some common...teary person.” Aziraphale said primly. Crowley mouthed ‘teary person?’ Aziraphale folded the wrapping paper neatly, setting it in a perfect pile. “Oh! How lovely.”

Anathema and Newt had gifted them with a small brass model of the Earth. Crowley grinned. “Yeah, s’okay. Now this one is from Adam. I’m opening it.”

Aziraphale frowned as Crowley ripped open the present, sending wrapping paper everywhere. “Oh, really.”

Adam’s present was a rather good clay rendition of the three of them at the airbase, Crowley and Aziraphale’s wings out as they held the now former Antichrist’s hands. “Rather good.”

“Yes, it is.” Aziraphale selected the next present. “Oh, it’s from Madame Tracy.” The angel opened it, looked inside, and went bright red. “Oh. Umm...”

“What is it?” Crowley asked, burning with curiosity. Blushing hotly, Aziraphale pulled out the medium’s present. Crowley blinked. “Is that a...”

“Yes.” The angel squeaked.

“For use in the...”

“Yes.”

“Well.” Crowley gulped. “It’s certainly...something.”

“Right!” Aziraphale said in a very squeaky voice. “Moving on. Nothing from the Sergeant, thank Someone. Oh, this one’s from me to you, my love.” He handed Crowley a medium sized present. Crowley grinned and ripped off the paper, then tore into the box, tossing excelsior all over the place. “Really?!”

“Sorry, wanna see my prezzie from my angel!” Crowley said in an excited tone. He lifted it out of the box. It was a glass sculpture, almost abstract, but Crowley felt like he had seen it before. “Aziraphale, what?”

“Hold it against the light, darling.”

Crowley held it up to the light, and gasped. Colors swirled in the depths. “Wait. Is this...Alpha Centauri?”

“Yes. I hope you...Mmmff!” Crowley had smashed his lips to Aziraphale’s. “I take it you like it.”

“I love it. I love you.” Crowley reached under the tree and pulled out the last present. “I...here.” He shoved it into Aziraphale’s hands.

Aziraphale opened it. “A photo album?”

“Sorta. Go on.”

The angel flipped to the first page. There, beautifully rendered in colored pencil, was… “This is our first meeting on the Wall.” A nod from his husband. “Oh, Crowley, it’s beautiful. Who did you get to do this?”

The demon blushed and mumbled something.

“What’s that?”

“Said I did it myself. Did all of ‘em myself.”

Aziraphale set the album aside and pulled Crowley into a deep, loving kiss. “Best. Present. Ever.”


	24. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve, and Crowley reminisces.

Chapter Twenty Four: Christmas Eve

Crowley stalked to the window for the fifth time, peering into the snowy darkness. Still nothing, and the demon sighed loudly, flopping down onto the sofa with an over the top groan. Where was he?

As if the thought had summoned him, the door opened and Aziraphale came inside, knocking the snow off his coat. “Crowley darling, I’m home!”

Crowley exerted every ounce of power he had to not leap off the sofa and run into his husband’s arms. Instead he called out in a nonchalant voice. “In here, Angel.” Aziraphale hung up his coat and came into the living room. Crowley had grabbed his phone and was pretending to scroll through it, not looking at his husband and willing himself to be cool. “So, how was Midnight Mass?”

Aziraphale sat on the sofa and toed off his shoes, stretching his tartan clad feet towards the fire. “Oh, it was lovely. The vicar gave a wonderful sermon about togetherness and what’s really important at Christmas time.”

“That’s nice.”

Aziraphale laughed, then reached over and plucked the phone right out of Crowley’s hands. “You know, you aren’t fooling anyone, least of all me. It’s no shame to admit you’re glad I’m back.”

Crowley abandoned all pretense of being a cool, suave demon and climbed into his husband’s lap, wrapping himself around him as only he could. “Christmas Eve, Angel. Snow falling, the tree, presents, all that jazz. And we get to spend it together. I never thought I could have this, you know? When we were apart, every Christmas Eve I used to imagine that you were out there, spreading good, being the best angel of a rotten bunch. Used to think, maybe he’s got a small tree, or maybe he’s making it snow for some poor kid that’s never seen it before, or maybe he’s just going around, spreading love, because he’s so good at it. I used to...when I wasn’t sure if you loved me as fiercely as I loved you, I used to hope that one Christmas Eve I would hear a knock on my door, and you’d be there, and we’d spend the night together, and..you would confess your love. The...when you left, those long, terrible years when I thought I’d lost you forever, I hated Christmas Eves then. Because I wanted so desperately to find you, beg your forgiveness, but I could never find the courage, because I was so sure I had broken us beyond repair.”

Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s cheek. “Those years are past, my love. We have an eternal amount of Christmas Eves to spend together.” He kissed his demon. “I love you. Happy Christmas Eve.”

“You too, Angel.”


	25. Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is asked to play Santa. He has a few doubts.

Chapter Twenty Five: Santa

Aziraphale came into the cottage, a pensive look on his face. Crowley watched from his spot on the sofa, stretched out in front of the fire, as the angel placed his coat on the rack and came over and sat down. “You okay?”

“I was asked if I could play Santa at the church Christmas party.”

Crowley grinned. “Well, they couldn’t have picked a better person. Do you not want to?”

Aziraphale sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just...well, okay, it is that I don’t want to. Don’t get me wrong, I respected Nicholas very much, and I’m sure Reverend Haley meant well when she asked me, but… well, I knew him, you know? Nicholas. And I always wonder...would he be insulted by what mass media has made him into?”

“Wot, you mean a symbol that has outlasted the real person to the point most mortals don’t even know there was a real Nicholas?” Crowley asked dryly. Aziraphale nodded. Crowley shook his head. “Not really. Honestly, I think he’d be flattered. You should give it a go, Angel. You’d be great.”

“Hmm. Well, alright. But I’m miracling my clothes. Children are so **sticky.** ”

Crowley laughed in agreement. 

Aziraphale, much to his surprise, turned out to be the best Santa the Christmas party had ever had. 


	26. Mittens/Gloves/Scarfs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley first got them in Rome...

Chapter Twenty Six: Mittens/Gloves/Scarfs

It had started a little after Rome. Crowley had been doing his job, tempting the mortals and missing his angel. It was winter, it was cold, and Crowley had been miserable. He had returned to his meager home, hoping to light a fire and thaw out, when he noticed a pile of cloth on his bed. He had gone over and picked up the pile. It turned out to be the longest, thickest, warmest scarf he had ever seen, along with a pair of thick woolen mittens and gloves. Crowley had pressed the scarf to his face, tears pricking in his eyes as he inhaled the scent of his angel. He had gone to sleep in his snake form, the scarf keeping him wonderfully warm.

After that, whenever they were apart in the winter, Crowley could always count on receiving a package of scarfs, gloves, and mittens from his angel. Some of the scarfs were plain in color, others were several colors, others had patterns, and still others had pictures, expertly knitted. But all were thick, and long, and oh so warm, and they smelled like his angel. The gloves and mittens fit him perfectly, and kept his hands so warm. If he couldn’t have his angel there in the flesh, this was the next best thing.

Now, millenia later, Crowley wrapped himself in his favorite scarf, pulled on a pair of mittens, and went outside with his angel to play in the newly fallen snow.


	27. Fruitcake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale makes fruitcake.

Chapter Twenty Seven: Fruitcake

If one were to ask Aziraphale what the problem with most fruitcakes was, the angel would reply that the vast majority of them were far too heavy and stodgy. Fruitcake could be enjoyable, he would argue, if one took the time to make it correctly.

And so Aziraphale had harvested the best fruits from his love’s garden, set them to soaking in the finest brandy there was, using a minor miracle to hide them from demonic eyes. He had spent hours trawling the Internets and the Google looking for the perfect recipe. None had seemed right, so he decided to make his own. After all, he was a very good cook and baker.

The hardest part was going to be baking it all without Crowley knowing. The demon had a sweet tooth unlike any Aziraphale had ever known, and it was almost a contest between them to see if Aziraphale could get a dessert item baked without Crowley either snitching large portions of dough or bits of chocolate, candy, or other sweet ingredients. Aziraphale wanted this to be a complete surprise.

So he had sent the demon on an errand that he hoped would last all day, giving him a list of rare books to look for and forbidding him to use any miracles. Crowley had groused and grumbled, but had pocketed the list and set off for London. The moment Aziraphale was sure he was gone, he had gone into the kitchen and pulled out the bowl of brandied fruits. The rest of the ingredients obligingly lined themselves up on the counter at his snap. Aziraphale tied his apron around himself, washed his hands, and set to work. Baking, along with knitting, was something that he had learned the human way, from watching and trying(and failing many times). He never used miracles in baking. Well...maybe small ones, if he had a cake to decorate and he wanted it to be perfect.

He popped the cake in the oven at the same time that he heard the distinct roar of the Bentley’s engine. Crowley came swaggering in, a large grin on his face. “Found the books you wanted, Angel.” He paused, sniffed, and(without realizing) stuck out his tongue, sensing the air. “You made cake!”

Aziraphale laughed. “I did indeed. It just went in the oven. You can help decorate when it comes out.”

Crowley wiggled happily. “With icing and cherries and sugar?”

“Of course.”

The fruitcake was a huge success.


	28. Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wants to build a snowman. Crowley wants to complain. A compromise is reached.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Snowman

Crowley shivered and rubbed his arms. “Angel, why are we still out here? I’m coooldd!” He put a good amount of petulance into his voice, and much to his chagrin Aziraphale kept ignoring him, continuing to roll snow into a large ball. “Azzziraphale...”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Quit being a Drama Snake, my love. I wanted us to make a snowman together.”

“Oh. Why?”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Because it’s something humans do when there’s snow. They make snowmen. I want to make one with you.” Crowley pouted as only he could. “I promise, if you do this with me, I will reward you with the best cocoa I can make, along with some snickerdoodles. How’s that sound?”

“Can the cocoa be grown up?”

“With brandy? Of course.”

The promise of cocoa and cookies galvanized Crowley, and he made to snap. Aziraphale glared at him. “I have to do it the human way?!” A curt nod from his husband. “But it’s cooolllld!” Aziraphale continued to glare. “Fine.” The demon huffed before gathering snow into a ball to set on top of the one Aziraphale had made. Aziraphale rolled a third ball and placed it on top of Crowley’s, then reached into his pocket and pulled out two lumps of coal and a carrot. “Wot’s that for?”

“He has to have a face, Crowley.”

“Oh.” Crowley stomped his feet and shivered in a highly exaggerated manner. “I wanna go inside now!”

“Honestly, you are the limit. Very well.” Crowley ran for the house. Aziraphale chuckled in fond exasperation and followed. Crowley was already on the sofa. At least Aziraphale thought he was. It was hard to tell under the mound of blankets, but the angel thought he saw a glimpse of red hair. Shaking his head, he went into the kitchen and fixed the cocoa, adding a splash of brandy to each mug before opening the cookie tin and taking out two snickerdoodles.

“Crowley, I have the cocoa and cookies.” Aziraphale said to the lump under the blankets. Crowley lifted one end and Aziraphale joined him. “Feel better now?”

“Yep. Got cocoa and cookies. Only need one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

Crowley leaned against his angel. “Cuddles.”

Aziraphale was more than happy to oblige.


	29. Silver and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale loves silver and gold..

Chapter Twenty Nine: Silver And Gold

Aziraphale has been on Earth from the beginning. He has seen the beginning of human art, when Eve collected pretty shells and strung them up, making a crude necklace. He was there when gold was first discovered, and when the humans found ways to shape the dull clay into works of craftsmanship and artistry that made the angel gasp in wonder. Over the centuries, he has amassed quite the collection of fine gold pieces, some of which are worth more money than even Aziraphale may realize. But to the angel, none of the pieces in his collection come close to capturing the most beautiful gold of all.

Crowley’s eyes are gemstones in his beautiful face. They show so much expression, even when hidden behind those treacherous glasses. The demon wore the glasses like armor, shutting Aziraphale away from the beautiful gold color for so long. Aziraphale hated those glasses, hated what they meant. Crowley had been so open, so honest and expressive on the Wall, that Aziraphale had fallen hard and fast. After the death of Yeshua, though, Crowley closed himself off to the world and to his angel, refusing to let his emotions show. But his eyes gave everything away. The dull gold of sadness, the bright, brilliant flash of joy, the blazing gold of anger. And so Crowley had donned the glasses, hiding the gold behind black lenses. Aziraphale treasured the moments when Crowley was open enough, vulnerable enough, to remove them, letting the angel see those golden eyes that he loved so very much.

Now, safe from Heaven and Hell, in a cottage that is decorated to the nines for Christmas, Aziraphale watches as Crowley strings silver and gold garland on his tree. The demon is singing along to the Pandora, a happy smile on his face and his gold eyes bright with joy. It’s the most beautiful thing Aziraphale has ever seen.

The angel can’t help but let his eye fall from his husband’s face to his hand, where a silver wedding band sits. Like his gold, the angel has plenty of silver pieces that would make any collector green with envy.

And like his gold, none are as dear to him as that simple band on his golden eyed demon’s finger.


	30. Fireplace/Mantel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a cottage in the South Downs, there is a fireplace.

Chapter Thirty: Fireplace/Mantel

In a cottage in The South Downs, there is a fireplace. It is lit more often these cold days, and one of the inhabitants of the cottage is slowly getting over the fear and agony that he associates with fire, with the terror that his husband has left him forever. Crowley can watch the flames dance and leap about now without flashing back to the Fire. But sometimes the memories surface, and Aziraphale will find Crowley curled up on the sofa, sobbing and crying out for him. In those times, the angel will go to him, place a hand on his demon’s back, and whisper in his ear that he’s here. He’ll douse the fire during those times, making their cottage magically warm. Crowley comes out of it, as he always does, and will watch Aziraphale relight their fire. The demon clings closer, not wanting to let go. But Aziraphale doesn’t mind.

Like all good fireplaces, this one has a mantel, and like all mantels, this one is decorated with knick knacks. To most people though, the choice of knicknacks would come across as singularly odd. There’s a wooden apple, what looks like a crude carving of an oyster, snow globes, and a dusty, empty bottle. But to Crowley and Aziraphale, these are precious mementos of all the times they have spent together. In the middle of these objects is a plain blue vase. Spilling out of the vase, trailing down the stonework of the fireplace, and filling the cottage with their scent are roses, the last harvest of flowers before the snow set in. Crowley had picked every last one and arranged them as a surprise for his angel. Aziraphale loved his roses.

Demon and angel are snuggled under a tartan blanket, cups of cocoa in their hands as they watch the flames leap and dance. Crowley sighs in contentment, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and the angel pulls his husband closer.

‘This,’ thinks Aziraphale, ‘is Heaven.’

And though he doesn’t know it, Crowley is thinking the same thing.


	31. Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Angel, hurry up! It's starting!" Crowley called out excitedly.

Chapter Thirty One: Champagne

“Angel, hurry up! It’s starting!” Crowley called out excitedly. “You’re gonna miss it!” The demon turned his attention to the television for a few seconds before flicking his eyes to the side. “Aziraphale!”

“I’m coming, Crowley. I just have to find the right...aha! There you are, you little bastard.” Crowley chuckled to himself as Aziraphale emerged from their ‘wine cellar’(a spare room in the cottage miracled to be the perfect temperature for all their fine spirits) with a bottle and two champagne flutes in his hands. “I thought perhaps the ‘36 Dom would be perfect for this occasion.” Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale popped the champagne and poured them each a generous glass.

“Don’t know why we have to watch this one. London’s got celebrations too. We could have watched that.” Aziraphale groused a bit, sitting on the couch and handing Crowley his glass. Crowley gave him a withering look.

“Angel. It’s Times. Square. The best New Year’s celebration! Who cares about bloody London?”

“Hmm. You do realize, with time zones, that we’re already far past midnight?”

“Not the point. Shut up.” Crowley said in exasperation. Aziraphale smirked, and Crowley blushed deeply, taking a swig of champagne. “Okay, so maybe it is the point. Still, shut up.”

“Have you made any resolutions?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley choked on his champagne.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, sputtering. Aziraphale shrugged. “I invented the bloody things, why would I make any myself? They’re made to be broken.” Aziraphale looked a little hurt. “Oh Angel, don’t tell me you’ve made some!”

“I...maybe.”

Crowley groaned and poured himself another glass. “Well, go on. What’d you resolve? If you say to lose weight, I am flying up to Heaven and punching Gabriel in his dick.”

“No, of course not. I resolved to...to never hurt you again.”

“Oh, Angel...” Crowley set down his glass and turned so he was fully facing Aziraphale. “My dearest angel, you don’t need to make that resolution. I forgave you centuries ago.” Crowley said softly before leaning in. Much to his surprise, Aziraphale pressed a hand to his lips. “Aziraphale?”

“I believe it is custom to kiss on the stroke of midnight, love. And we have ten seconds.”

On screen, the Times Square ball had begun its descent.

“NINE!”

“EIGHT!”

“SEVEN!”

“SIX!”

“FIVE!”

“FOUR!”

“THREE!”

“TWO!”

“ONE!”

And as New York erupted into celebration, in a cottage in England, an angel and a demon melted into each others’ embrace.


End file.
